


the one i adore

by beastlyboop



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Hand Job, No Condoms Allowed, Oral Sex, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, a little bit, gender-neutral dfab reader, it jumps right into the smut, request, stanwich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastlyboop/pseuds/beastlyboop
Summary: With the Shack still closed, there isn’t a lot to do. You still come in, at Stan’s request - not that you mind showing up. He manages to keep you busy.takes place aftercome and get your love





	the one i adore

**Author's Note:**

> requests were for stan/reader/ford & stan/reader oral
> 
> [on tumblr](https://beastlybutts.tumblr.com/post/128973735160/the-one-i-adore-grunkle-stan-x-reader-x-stanford)

With the Shack still closed, there isn’t a lot to do. You still come in, at Stan’s request - not that you mind showing up. He manages to keep you busy.

Stanley stands behind you, pressing you into the counter, his hands on your stomach, your chest, as he kisses at the side of your neck. He pulls up your shirt, your bra, until he holds your bare breasts in his large, rough hands, his fingers finding the hard nubs of your nipples, taking them between thumb and forefinger, drawing a gasp from you as he nips at your shoulder. In the empty room all you can hear is your own breath, your own soft gasps, and the quiet, low chuckles that follow - and a quiet creak from the edge of the room.

You’re surprised you hear it, chalking it up to the Shack settling on a hot day, until you hear it again, and your eyes are drawn to the far end of the room, near the employee’s entrance to the rest of the house. The door is open a crack, although you’re sure you had closed it that morning. There’s a faint glimmer on the other side of the door, quick, a reflection of the light, at eye-level.

Your mind clouded, you don’t think about it, but keep staring, mouth open, breathing heavily, and you smile as you can feel Stan’s hand undo and dip into the front of your pants, and further between your legs. Teasing you, he drags his large fingers between your thighs, up against the material of your underwear, _Stan,_ you breathe his name, and he replies in turn with your name groaned against your neck.

He turns you, leans you back against the counter, kissing your throat, biting gently at the nape of your neck, just hard enough to let you feel it but never enough to leave a mark, at least in places where others might see. His hands slide down your hips, pull down your pants and underwear, down to your ankles, and you lift one foot up with his guidance and step out of them. His hand rests on the back of your calf, sliding up to your thigh, holding it steady there. He kisses the soft skin of your thigh, presses his lips against you, lets his tongue slide out and taste you.

You groan, hands behind you on the counter, your arms trembling, your head lolled to the side, half-closed eyes staring at the door on the far side of the room. Now open, noticeably, but still dark on the other side, preventing you from seeing what’s there. But still there’s a quick glimmer of something, which comes in and out of the light.

Your eyes close as you can feel Stan’s tongue part your lips, sliding between them, the fingers of his free hand following. You lift a hand and let it rest on his head, knocking away his fez, fingers curling in the soft gray locks you find beneath. You hold him there, bring his head closer with a fistful of hair, lead him up against you and he doesn’t object, slides his fingers into you, stretching you, while his tongue works your clit.

Your legs shake as he pumps his fingers into you, your own wet sounds reaching your ears along with his groans, which you can feel vibrate against you, and you reply in turn by moaning, _Stan, oh, fuck._ He keeps his eyes on you, and although his mouth is occupied between your thighs you know he’s grinning. Your body squeezes around his fingers as you cum, crying his name, his hands the only thing keeping your trembling legs from giving out beneath you.

When you’re both satisfied – you know you are, and you know he would be content to spent the whole day with his head between your legs – and redressed, you’re left sitting on the stool behind the counter, Stan’s arms around your waist, his lips planting kisses on the side of your neck, you rest your head back against his shoulder and watch the door at the other end of the room, which is now closed, and silent.

x

Later that day, with the kids and Soos back from town and everyone gathered in the kitchen for lunch, you try not to spit out your drink as they all recount the exciting and hilarious adventure that was their trip to the grocery store. From the corner of your eye you catch the glint of something reflective in the doorway and turn slightly to catch it, and find yourself staring at the familiar form of Stanford Pines.

The sunlight reflects off of his glasses and hides his eyes until he shifts, and it’s then that you can see him staring back at you, silent, until Dipper calls his name and he looks away. You do the same, taking up your glass and chugging the rest of the cold soda inside, your face suddenly warm.

x

The drive home that night leaves you with some time to think. You’re not exactly sure about the kind of relationship you have with Stan, if you could call it that. It was more like, he was your employer with benefits. You weren’t sure if that would be considered exclusive or not. Then again, you weren’t sure how he would react if you said, _Stan, I fucked your brother._

x

The morning after, on your way back to the Shack, you decide to tell him. What was the worst that could happen?

It's probably best not to think about it.

You find the two men sitting at the table in the living room and you watch, from the doorway, as Stan smiles, grabbing his brother’s hand. Their voices are quiet, but they laugh out loud, the both of them, and for several minutes you stand there, watching their wild hands gesturing as they both talk. You smile, glad to see the men talking for once in good spirits. After a while Stan’s eyes catch yours and you blush, realizing it must be weird, you standing there watching them, and you wave. He waves back and Stanford turns in his chair, arm slung over the back, and gives you a smile and a wave as well.

Stan calls you over and you pause, wondering if now would be the best time to tell him. Maybe you should wait until Stanford was at a safe distance.

“Morning,” you say, smiling as Stan rises to meet you, and the next moment you find his arms around you, laughing as his stubble scratches your cheek when he kisses it.

“Good to see you, too!” You blush at the show of affection, knowing Stanford was watching the both of you.

“We’ve been talkin’, Ford and I,” Stan mutters, his lips at the base of your neck, and you can’t help but close your eyes at the feeling, letting your body relax against him.

“Oh, yeah?” You sigh as you feel his hands move down your sides, forgetting yourself, letting your head fall back as he kisses your neck. The back of your head comes to rest on something solid behind you and you open your eyes, looking back over your shoulder to see none other than Stanford there, smiling warmly down at you.

“Yeah, see, I never was good at the whole, ‘sharing’, thing. Am I sayin’ that right?”

You gasp as you feel Stan’s lips on your throat, teeth against your skin, sucking there and you know he’ll leave a mark you won’t be able to cover up. You can feel two hands land on your hips, can feel the heat and the solid form of Stanford behind you, and those hands, new, six-fingered, sliding upwards under your shirt, onto your stomach. He pulls you back until you’re resting against his chest, and you can feel him place his lips near your ear, his breath brushing against the other side of your neck. Your skin tingles, warm, goosebumps rising where he touches.

“But, we’ve come to an agreement,” Stanford whispers in your ear, his hands sliding farther up onto your chest, cupping your breasts outside of your bra. You can feel Stan’s hands sliding up your thighs, lifting your skirt, and his quiet chuckle in your other ear. Between their two solid bodies, their hands and lips on you, you smile.

x

Laying on your back in Stan’s bed, him on one side and Stanford on the other, there are hands on your chest, your stomach, your legs, between your thighs, and two sets of lips kissing at your neck, your mouth, your shoulders. There are two fingers sliding inside of you, which you can tell belong to Stanford by the extra you can feel on you and the way they tremble, as opposed to Stanley’s more steady hand. You spread your thighs for him, turning your head to meet Stan’s lips, your open mouth allowing his tongue to slip in, sliding over your own.

Stanford’s mouth lowers to kiss your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth, gently sucking on it while he fingers you, his thumb circling the sensitive nub of your clit. You pull away from Stan to take a breath, gasping, _Stan,_ and they both answer, _Yes?_ You laugh, raising a hand to cover your face, before placing a hand on the back of their heads, running your hands through their hair. Stanford pulls away, fingers leaving you, moving between your legs. He pulls himself free from his pants, cock springing free from the material and into his hand, and looks up at you as he hovers there, not moving. You raise your hips, legs spread on either side of him, and smile as you watch him move forward. The head of his cock brushes against you before sliding between your lips, and he stays there for a moment before rolling his hips forward, sliding into you with a groan.

He grabs your hips with both hands as he comes to rest against you, and you can feel Stan’s fingers move down your stomach as Stanford pulls back. His fingers find your clit and he rubs it gently with his middle finger, teasingly slow, as Ford begins to thrust his hips forward, back against you. You groan, a hand gripping the hair at the back of Stan’s head, the other grabbing the sheets beneath you. They both go slow, too slow, just enough to keep you on the edge, and even with your eyes closed you can tell they’re both wearing the same lopsided grin. Your hand leaves Stan’s head and moves down his chest until you find the band of his boxers, dipping beneath the material and you find his cock there, hard in your hand, and wrap your fingers around it.

While Stanford rocks against you with his steady rhythm, Stan running his finger over the spot that makes your legs twitch, you begin to stroke his cock, drawing a groan from him against your neck. Ford begins to thrust faster, grunting with each slap of his skin against yours, Stan’s fingers rubbing faster against your clit, and your hand working his cock. Breath ragged, you call out, _Ford, oh, my god, fuck, Stan, oh, **please,**_ and they oblige, one now bucking his hips against you in short bursts, the other’s fingers working quickly against you and _oh!, oh, fuck!,_ you come, back arching, legs pulling Stanford closer. Ford moans, his own orgasm catching him moments later and he gives a few last hard thrusts into you before you can feel his release spilling into you, and Stan groans your name into your ear as his own release runs over your fingers, lands on your hip and stomach.

You’re all left to catch your breath in the moments after, and after a while Ford shifts, pulls himself out of you, and falls back onto the bed beside you. Their hands roam over your warm body, and you revel in the comfort of their two bodies on either side of you, the weight of them, their solid frames. Stan presses a kiss to your cheek and Ford follows, squishing your face, and you laugh, first turning to kiss Stan and then Ford, your arms slipping around their shoulders.

Well, that went over better than expected.


End file.
